


Finding Our Place (Back In This World)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Post-Episode: s03e10 Maveth, F/M, Multi, Post-Episode: s03e10 Maveth, Pre-Relationship, Will Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9293711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: All Jemma wanted was for Will and Fitz to come back through that portal. But that's when things got complicated. Set immediately post-Agents of Shield Season 3 Episode 10 Maveth.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storiesfortravellers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/gifts).



> Thank you, storiesfortravellers, for your prompts! I'm so happy you requested these three, because I've wanted to write a story like this for a while now. I really hope you enjoy!

Jemma’s heart was in her throat. Time had almost ceased to exist, every second an eternity. She felt like her limbs were frozen in place, her eyes forever focused on the doors.

She needed Fitz to come back. She needed Coulson to come back. She needed Will to come back.

She should have made sure he came back with her in the first place.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t focus on anything else but how slow time was moving.

She felt a brush of a hand by her side. Daisy. She managed to shift her eyes, caught Daisy’s sympathetic smile, tried to move her muscles to smile back but nothing. She couldn’t do it.

She could only wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And then there was noise and then the doors were opening and then Fitz was there.

Fitz was there! He was there!

Her legs finally remembered how to move. She darted forward, her arms wrapping around his neck, all the air in her lungs leaving in one great big sobbing rush.

She could still see the doors, was still facing toward them. Her breath stopped again.

Coulson stepped out.

He was back. He was okay.

Coulson met her eyes, stared at her for a moment, face blank. Jemma felt her heart stop, her breath gone again.

And then Coulson’s lips moved, curved into a smile, eyes crinkling.

He stepped to the side.

Jemma’s arms fell from around Fitz’s neck. It couldn’t be true.

A foot came into view. A black shoe. And then a leg. And then there he was.

Will.

Will was here. Will was alive. He had made it.

There was a cry of joy. Somewhere in the back of her mind Jemma registered it was her. She ran forward. He met her halfway, scooped her up.

She was crying, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the ones streaming down his.

He twirled her around. She held on as if her life depended on it, then pressed her lips to his, felt him respond. He was so warm, so strong, so _here_.

Will was here. Will was alive.

Will was _here_.

•••

It had been three weeks since Will had stepped out of the portal and back into her life. Jemma hadn’t expected his transition to be easy, but she also hadn’t expected it to be this hard.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind and during all those times when she had closed her eyes at night, she had seen these days, seen her helping him readjust to the world he hadn’t lived in for years and years, but in her imagination, every day was a step forward. Every day he had grown better, grown more willing to explore, because she loved him and he loved her and that was what mattered.

Except it wasn’t that easy and the fact that they loved each other wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

Will spent most of his time alone, locked in his room in the bunker, not wanting to talk to anyone or see anyone. He had been herding newspapers, been surfing the internet, trying to take in what he had missed. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was just sitting, staring at the wall and not saying a word.

She had tried, to talk to him, to get him to talk to her, but it was hard. Sometimes he let her cuddle up next to him, lie down beside him with her head on his chest. Sometimes he ran his fingers through her hair and sighed. Sometimes they kissed — pecked really — and she ran her fingers over his jaw or held his hand, promised him it gets better and that she knew because she went through it too, and sometimes he would nod, but he never looked like he believed her.

And it wasn’t just Will. It was Fitz too. The way he would watch her, the way he would look at Will, the way she felt like she was losing him again, every conversation ending in short words and a snappy tone.

Fitz loved her. She knew that. And she loved him too. But she also loved Will. And Will needed her. Will didn’t have anyone else.

But Fitz had almost died for her, had sacrificed himself for her, had found her and pulled her back to this world, had helped her get Will back.

She felt like she was being torn in two, her heart breaking in half because she couldn’t help either and she couldn’t pick.

“Maybe you don’t have to pick,” Daisy said to her one morning when they were eating breakfast.

“That sounds like a very optimistic point of view,” Jemma replied.

“What can I say? I’m an optimist.” Daisy grinned at her before taking a bite of her apple.

That got a laugh out of Jemma. “No, you’re not.”

•••

In the end, it was Fitz who helped Will the most. That unnerved Jemma at first. She would catch Fitz in the hall, slipping in to see Will, and then a few hours later slipping back out, always looking around like he was afraid to be caught.

“What are you doing?” she finally demanded the fifth time she saw him leaving Will’s room.

“Being a friend.”

“You don’t like him.”

“Being a friend to _you_ ,” Fitz said. “You love him.”

“I …” Jemma stared at him, suddenly lost for words. “Why would you do that?”

“Perhaps I feel for the guy.” Fitz shrugged. “I know how hard it was for you when you got back here.”

“Yes, but …”

“And maybe I think that he’s a good guy.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do.” Fitz looked almost hurt. “What did you think I was going to do?”

“I …” Jemma shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, Fitz.”

“You should be.”

•••

“Leo is a good guy,” Will said to her that night, running his fingers through her hair. He seemed better. More comfortable.

“Yes,” she said. “He is.”

“You love him.” He didn’t make it sound like a question.

“I love you too.”

“And we both love you.”

Jemma turned her head, buried it in his chest. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to choose.”

“Maybe you don’t have to choose.”

She lifted her head. “What are you saying?”

Will shrugged down at her. “You love us both, we both love you, we like each other. Maybe we can learn to more than like each other. Maybe you don’t have to choose.”

She stared at him, not sure she was hearing what she thought she was hearing. “But how would that work?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

He kissed her head. Jemma closed her eyes.

Could they really figure it out? Could she really not have to choose?

She felt Will’s warm breath on her skin, felt his arm protectively around her, thought about Fitz and the way he made her feel.

Maybe they could do this.

Maybe she didn’t have to choose.

She let herself fall asleep, a smile forming across her face.


End file.
